Mary
by KyronP
Summary: With the Bennets now having some high-brow connections, the remaining Bennet girls, Miss Bennet and Miss Kitty, are the only ones left unmarried. Lots has changed since Elizabeth and Jane married Darcy and Bingley. And none more so than in the current Miss Bennet, Mary. Follow her as she explores love and loss in this intriguing sequel to Jane Austen's classic...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The Bennets' station had greatly improved in the two years since the marriage of the eldest girls to gentlemen of wealth and breeding, especially after the embarrassment of the marriage between the youngest girl and an officer of considerably dubious though superficially charming character. Mr. Darcy had taken it upon himself to assist in this improvement of station by wholeheartedly advising Mr. Bennet on how to run Longbourn. Mr. Bennet was now earning six thousand a year, which was twice more than before Mr. Darcy's intervention.

While Mr. Bennet was simply overjoyed to be wealthier than he thought possible, Mrs. Bennet was more concerned for her two unmarried daughters, though completely grateful for the opportunity to dress them more finely.

Kitty Bennet had been all but taken up by the Darcys and spent quite a number of time at Pemberley, where she was undoubtedly thrown in the way of many eligible young men of consequence. In fact, Kitty had recently spent the entire Season in town with the Darcys at Darcy House in the fashionable St. James's neighborhood in London and had even grown to become great friends with Lady Bratford, the former Miss Georgiana Darcy. At twenty, Kitty, who was always very beautiful, had grown to be even more so and there was scarcely a gentleman who could keep his eyes off of her once she entered a room. It was simply a matter of time before someone consequential came along. Kitty had made it explicitly clear since her return to Longbourn that Mary should have accompanied her to London for the Season where she would have met an abundance of people. But Mary thought it more than a little selfish had she left both her parents to gallivant through town.

While Kitty's beauty had increased, it was dwarfed by the varied changes in the elder Miss Bennet.

Miss Mary Bennet, the oftentimes overlooked sister out of the five Bennet girls, was what her mother called a late bloomer. Now two and twenty, Miss Bennet was a bonafide beauty and was by far the most attractive of the Bennet girls, much to the surprise of everyone in the family's acquaintance. She was always considered the plain one and, with the Bennets not exactly rich, she was probably the one most destined to either be a burden to one of her married sisters or become a governess. But now she was a beautiful young woman and a considerable heiress. And, with the help of masters paid for by Mr. Bingley, she was able to receive the instruction she so desired in drawing, music and the modern languages. She was able to fine-tune her skills at the piano forte and she had also adopted sewing as a suitable distraction by the prodding of her mother and could now make little alterations to her frocks and bonnets if she so desired.

Like her elder sister Elizabeth, Mary had an interest in reading but she had found a balance between the overtly serious and the entertainingly salacious so that now she was not always putting on a display whenever she attended a dinner party hosted by some neighbor or the other. Essentially, the elder Miss Bennet was a young lady of both beauty and intelligence.

With the Bennets' rise, Mrs. Bennet had become increasingly proud and had taken it upon herself to regularly take Mary with her to Lucas Lodge, where she would boast of the new additions that were being made to Longbourn House and parade Mary's considerable beauty. Mary's only consolation in these visits was that she was able to spend time with her dear friend Miss Harriet Lucas. Mary felt pity for the Lucas girls in general and took it upon herself to assist them in their education by teaching them everything she had learnt in the past couple of years.

It was after one of these visits that Mrs. Bennet made a most interesting revelation.

"Netherfield has been let yet again," said Mrs. Bennet, as she entered the new carriage. "Lady Lucas just informed me of it."

"By whom?" asked Mary, getting in after her mother. "For me, Netherfield shall always belong to Jane and Charles. I still cannot believe that they have moved to Derbyshire."

"Mr. William Bonham," said Mrs. Bennet. "His father is a baronet of considerable fortune from Hampshire. Netherfield brought us great luck three years ago, did it not? Maybe it would do the same for you or Kitty."

"Did you say Bonham?" asked Mary. "As in our Mr. Bonham?"

"I would not call Mr. Bonham ours," said Mrs. Bennet. "He is Mr. Wingfield's."

"But is there a connection between the two?"

"They are brothers," said Mrs. Bennet, "but that is the only connection between the two, I'm afraid. Mr. William Bonham is destined to be a baronet. Lady Lucas was telling me that Mr. Henry Bonham is only a third son. That is why he is in the employ of Mr. Wingfield."

"Exactly, Mama," said Mary. "Meryton Rectory is a marvelous living, after all. He could scarcely do better."

"I suppose. But we simply must use him to introduce us to his brother," said Mrs. Bennet. "Jerry! Please take us to Meryton Rectory! We must call on Mr. Bonham!"

Within a few minutes the carriage arrived at Meryton Rectory and the ladies descended and were greeted by elderly Mrs. Wingfield. Mrs. Bennet was solely interested in the whereabouts of young Mr. Bonham and she was asked to wait in the drawing room while Mrs. Wingfield sent one of the servants to fetch him.

"I hear Mr. Bonham has some relatives who will be joining us here in Hertfordshire in due course," said Mrs. Bennet. "Do you know of this?"

"I believe he mentioned it," said Mrs. Wingfield.

"And what of Mr. Wingfield's health?" enquired Mary, asking what her mother should have asked first.

"It is very sad," said old Mrs. Wingfield. "I honestly expect him to pass any day now. He is so very ill. Dr. Gresham has said that there is nothing further to do."

"I am so sorry to hear that, Mrs. Wingfield," said Mary, smiling warmly at the woman.

"I would go live with my daughter and her husband in Derbyshire," continued Mrs. Wingfield. "It would be nice to see the little children every day. It would be a burden off their mother's shoulders, I assure you. She struggles with those six little boys."

"My elder sisters live in Derbyshire, Mrs. Wingfield. Jane and Elizabeth. I'm sure they will love to be near you," said Mary. "But I pray that that time does not come in a hurry. I wish for you to stay here in Hertfordshire forever."

"Such a sweet girl," said Mrs. Wingfield. "And I do so love to hear you play. And so does Augustus. You simply must come one afternoon and play for him. I will have Burleigh and one of the other servants bring the piano forte into Augustus's room. He will love it."

"Of course, Mrs. Wingfield."

At that moment, Mr. Bonham entered the drawing room and bowed to each lady in turn before assuming a seat. Mr. Bonham had come to the Rectory nine months earlier, just after Mr. Wingfield had started succumbing to his illness, to assist in the running of the local church. He was already a member of Meryton society and everyone accepted him as the gentleman who was to take the honored position that for so long had been in the trusted hands of Mr. Wingfield.

Mr. Bonham was also an extremely eligible bachelor.

He was handsome and fashionable and was in line to receive a profitable rectory. And he was friendly with everyone in Meryton and environs. He was even able to encourage Mary to assist in distributing gifts to the less fortunate in their neighborhood during Christmas and was a fixture at the Longbourn dinner table whenever Mrs. Bennet was throwing a little party. Mr. Bonham was a superb dancer as well, which caught the attention of more than one of the young ladies in the neighborhood, and he had both pedigree and manners to recommend him to everyone.

"Mr. Bonham, I am so happy to see you, sir," started Mrs. Bennet, after being silent for the entirety of Mrs. Wingfield's and Mary's conversation. "How have you been?"

"I am fine," said Mr. Bonham, in his good natured way. "And I'm gratified that you would ask."

"You have been a very, very mischievous young man," said Mrs. Bennet. "You should have told me that you had a relative coming to Netherfield!"

Mr. Bonham looked confused for a second before saying, "Yes! You are absolutely right, Mrs. Bennet. I do apologize. My brothers are to be coming to Netherfield for a couple of months."

"Brothers?" asked Mary. "How many, sir?"

"Oh, just two," said Mr. Bonham. "I only have two brothers. The eldest, William, stands to inherit…well, everything. My other brother, Charles, is the one who is really coming to Hertfordshire to see if Netherfield is a good fit. He made a fortune during the war while I joined the clergy."

"A most honorable profession for a gentleman, Mr. Bonham," added Mary, glancing over at Mrs. Wingfield.

"Of course," said Mr. Bonham. "I am most gratified by my reception here and I wish to spend many, many more years in the employ of this parish."

"So you have two very successful brothers?" asked Mrs. Bennet. "One to become a baronet and the other a successful Captain Bonham. You simply must bring them to dinner once they arrive, Mr. Bonham. We must meet them."

Mr. Bonham nodded and said that Longbourn would be the first house they dine at once they have settled at Netherfield.

Now that the business at hand had been dealt with, Mrs. Bennet excused herself and Mary and they returned to Longbourn and to some extremely discouraging news. Kitty met them at the door and was most flushed and most out of humor.

"I have the most dreadful news," started Kitty. "Papa has had an accident!"

"What has happened, Kitty?" asked Mary, concerned for the well-being of her father.

"He was out riding with Mr. Harper, the new steward, trying to show him all the grounds and the new property we acquired," explained Kitty, "when he fell off his horse! Some of the tenants brought him up here! It was monstrously horrid, Mama, to see him! And Mary! There was blood everywhere! He seems irreparably broken! His limbs! I'm so worried for him!"

Mrs. Bennet ran up to the bedroom and left Kitty to be consoled by her elder sister.

"Did you call Dr. Gresham?" asked Mary.

"Of course," said Kitty, wiping away some tears with a handkerchief that Mary had produced from her reticule. "He is up there with dear, old Papa right now. Oh, Mary. I do not know if he is going to make up!"

Mary led her sister into the sitting room and they sat huddled together on one of the new pieces of furniture.

"If something happens to Papa, this may be good news for Lydia," said Kitty. "After all, she will get some money. We all know how much she needs it with those two little girls of hers. And she is with child again. And Jane and Eliza do not need it; they are already so well-married." She burst into raptures again and Mary had to rock her as if she were a mere child. "What is to become of us if something were to happen to Papa, Mary?"

"Papa needs us to be strong," advised Mary. "He is not that old, Kitty. He should be fine."

"I am just so worried," said Kitty, finally pulling herself together. "Was your visit to the Lucases well?"

"Yes it was," said Mary. "Apparently Netherfield has been let to Mr. Bonham's elder brothers. The younger of the two, Captain Bonham, is looking for a suitable estate in the country. The other, the eldest, is to inherit a baronetcy."

"Really?" asked Kitty, looking a little more like herself now. "A baronetcy?"

"I must write to Jane and Elizabeth," said Mary, rising. "Well, I should check Papa first. Are you well, Kitty?"

"I shall be fine," said Kitty. "You go see Papa. I shall write to Lydia."

Mary went up to her parents' rooms and checked in with the good doctor. Dr. Gresham informed her that Mr. Bennet required constant supervision if he was to heal but that he should be fine as long as he was well taken care of. Medicines were prescribed and the doctor and his aide went off to the next country gentleman who required assistance.

Once she ensured that her father was comfortable and that her mother's nerves had been rectified, Mary retreated to her own room and quickly wrote letters to her sisters so that they would be kept abreast of what was happening with their father in Hertfordshire. Knowing them, they would drop everything and come running to Longbourn. Especially Elizabeth, who was always a favorite of Mr. Bennet's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The following weeks at Longbourn were a veritable mess. Longbourn found all of the married Bennet girls and their husbands descending upon it. Elizabeth left baby Fitzwilliam Darcy II, who everyone simply called Fitz, home at Pemberley and Jane managed to part from her own darling Elizabeth Bingley, who everyone referred to as Little E, at Saldridge, she and Bingley's estate. Both children were in the care of doting nurses.

Lydia was the only one who brought her little girls and the responsibility had fallen upon Mary to take care of them while their mother went into Meryton with Kitty in tow to see Aunt Phillips. Mary, Elizabeth and Jane all agreed that Lydia's presence did more harm than good in Kitty's development but Jane wisely noted that, at twenty, Kitty was in charge of herself by now and should not allow herself to be led astray by the very immature Lydia.

Mr. Wickham's presence at Mr. Bennet's side served as a much-needed comfort to the sick gentleman, who adored Mr. Wickham over any of his other sons-in-law. Mr. Wickham, though callous, was exceedingly uplifting to Mr. Bennet's spirits and told the most entertaining stories about his travels throughout the country. Everyone enjoyed his tales. Everyone except for Mr. Darcy, who often excused himself.

One afternoon Miss Harriet Lucas came to pay a visit to Longbourn. After calling on the invalid, Harriet was ushered into Mary's room so that they could discuss all that had been happening in the neighborhood since last they had seen each other.

"The gentlemen at Netherfield are extremely attractive," started Harriet, coloring just a little. "I daresay, they are the most agreeable gentlemen to come into the neighborhood since…well. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. We have had them to dinner at Lucas Lodge at least three times in the past few weeks. They are always out to dinner at someone or else's house."

"Are they as handsome as their brother?" asked Mary.

"Twice and thrice more," said Harriet. "But they have barely noticed me, what with Maria throwing herself at them."

"She must be worried about becoming an old maid," said Mary.

"And my sister Charlotte and her husband Mr. Collins are at the Lodge as well," added Harriet, in a small voice. "They should be calling on you very soon."

Mary thought that very forthcoming of them to be at Lucas Lodge. Her father was far from dead. And once he was, she was sure that Lady Lucas would not allow Mr. Bennet to get cold before she fetched them to Hertfordshire. Mary thought them both very greedy people for descending upon the neighborhood under these circumstances. The Collinses had not even called on the Bennets since their marriage and Mary could not even remember them calling on their own relations in Hertfordshire. This visit could not have been by accident.

After discussing whatever other little happenings, Mary escorted Harriet out of the house and waved her off. A phaeton passed Harriet as she walked out of the gates and, in a matter of seconds, stopped in front of Mary.

Mr. Henry Bonham descended and bowed stiffly while Mary curtsied.

"Miss Bennet," he said. "I must apologize for neglecting you over the past few weeks. I thought I would give you and your family the space that you required to assist your father in his health. But you have been missed at church."

"And I have missed church, Mr. Bonham," said Mary. "Come in, please. Papa will be very happy to see you."

"How is Mr. Bennet's health?" asked Mr. Bonham, as they approached the rooms.

"He is almost fully recovered, sir," she said. "He should be fine, given a couple more days."

Catherine Wickham, Lydia's elder daughter, appeared out of nowhere and started running circles around her Aunt Mary, who was a favorite, much to Mary's dismay. She had put the little darling to sleep only an hour earlier after playing with her all morning. Susan, who was just learning to walk, was wailing in the room she had been sharing with Catherine.

"Would you excuse me, Mr. Bonham?" asked Mary, picking up Catherine. "Papa's room is down the hall. You cannot miss it. Everyone is there. Let me deal with the little ones."

"Let me help you," he said, taking Catherine from her. The little girl, who was always wriggling out of anyone's grip, was still once she was in Mr. Bonham's arms.

"I have never seen Catherine so quiet before."

"I have a way with children," he told her.

Mary led him into the unofficial nursery and scooped up baby Susan, who immediately stopped crying once she was in her aunt's arms. Mary sat down on a rocking chair near the window and sang the baby a lullaby, all the while staring at Mr. Bonham, who was cradling Catherine in his arms. She found it remarkable that he had the ability to settle the energetic babe. Most gentlemen simply fled the scene. But Mr. Bonham seemed most at ease with Catherine. And, once she'd fallen asleep, he wasted no time in placing her in the closest available crib and standing next to Mary.

Susan was a little irritable but she eventually fell asleep as well and Mr. Bonham scooped her up and placed her in the other crib.

Mary and Mr. Bonham tip-toed out of the room and lightly closed the door behind them.

"You were very good with Catherine," she said, leading him down the hall. "Thank you."

"And you were very good with the baby," he said. "Being an aunt suits you."

Mary colored uncontrollably. She knew this but it was vastly different hearing it from a handsome gentleman.

They arrived at the room and he was embraced by the Bennets' extended family. Mr. Bennet joked that it was far too early to start giving final rites, much to the amusement of everyone in the room except for Mrs. Bennet, whose nerves were flaring. The Darcys and Mr. Wickham were both introduced to Mr. Bonham, none of them having been in the neighborhood when Mr. Bonham had arrived.

"You seem in good spirits, Mr. Bennet," said Mr. Bonham. "And you were the first parishioner I called on. So now I will have good news to share with all of our neighbors."

"No need to talk about me on your visits to our friends," said Mr. Bennet. "Let me surprise them by appearing on horseback!"

"You simply must tell them that Mr. Bennet is well," said Mrs. Bennet. "And you could also tell them if the new rooms we added at the back of the house. Mary, would you show Mr. Bonham the rooms?"

"Mama," hissed Elizabeth.

"Go on, Mary," said Mrs. Bennet.

Mary was immediately embarrassed by the impropriety of the situation but she guided Mr. Bonham out of the room anyway and directed him to the new part of the house where they had added a group of extra rooms, which now housed the extended family. Each couple was given their own spacious living arrangements. There were also new servants' quarters added to the house.

"I hear that your brothers have arrived safely," she said to Mr. Bonham, as they were returning to Mr. Bennet's rooms.

"Yes they have," he said. "They are quite comfortable in Netherfield. And so am I. The library there is quite enchanting."

"I used to come visit there very often when my sister Jane and her husband Charles lived there," said Mary. "It has one of the best libraries in the country. I was never able to finish reading all the books, though."

"Well, you must come up to Netherfield and continue," he advised. "We shall read together. And you could probably recommend all the best books to me. I do trust your taste, Miss Bennet, above all else in the neighborhood. Your opinion matters greatly to me."

Mary had to look away from him, she was so overcome with emotion. In the past few years many a gentleman had approached her with sweet words. But these had to be the sweetest. Now she understood exactly how her sisters had been feeling ever since they had come out.

After he made his farewells to the family, Mary escorted him out of the house and saw that his phaeton left the estate safely before she went inside, still overcome with emotion. She had always noted how handsome he was but she had never thought about him as a potential suitor, which he clearly was. But she knew that at this point he was not in a position to marry. When he was in charge of the Rectory, perhaps, he would be available for matrimonial bliss. But, at this point, he was but an extended guest at the Rectory and it would be most unacceptable of him to bring a wife.

And then there was the small issue of his parents.

She had only heard about his parents in polite conversation but to say that she knew anything about them would not be entirely true. She knew that his father was Sir Geoffrey and his mother was, of course, Lady Bonham. They had an estate in Hampshire that, along with others, earned them eight thousand a year, and that they had three boys. Their baronetcy had been in existence for generations, she knew, so while they were not exactly aristocracy they would have been proud to be the highest ranking members of the gentry in their neighborhood. She could not be certain that she would be liked by so esteemed a family. After all, the shame that was brought to the Bennet girls by Lydia was a taint that had not entirely been washed out even though there were much grander matches by the eldest Bennet girls.

While she was contemplating all these things in the sitting room, she heard a great commotion coming from the foyer and was forced to pull away from her thoughts and investigate. As she entered, her youngest sister, Mrs. Wickham, screamed out in pain and squeezed the hands of Kitty and the new steward, Mr. Harper.

"Whatever is the matter?" asked Mary, surprised by the display.

"Good day, Miss Bennet," said Mr. Harper, managing to tip his hat at her. "I do believe Mrs. Wickham is about to have her child."

"Thank you, Mr. Harper," said Kitty. "I don't know what would have happened."

Two footmen assisted Mrs. Wickham upstairs.

"I shall go fetch Dr. Gresham," said Mr. Harper, bowing to the ladies before excusing himself.

"Oh, Mary, it was quite a spectacle," said Kitty.

"What happened?"

"She was driving the chaise and she suddenly started screaming in pain, which startled the horse. We were trapped in a ditch! Fortunately, Mr. Harper was passing and he assisted us out of the ditch—thank heavens the wheels were not demolished—and escorted us back to Longbourn."

"How was Aunt Phillips?" asked Mary.

"She is quite fine. She was telling us that she met Mr. Bonham's brothers recently while they were all in Meryton shopping. She said they are very handsome and very agreeable gentlemen of…a marriageable age. She said that she expects them to be all the talk of the young ladies. I feel so sorry for Aunt Phillips, do not you? She never goes where we go since she is of that sort."

"What sort is that?"

"A country lawyer's wife, of course, Mary. She never gets invited to any balls or dinner parties held by our friends. It is most unfortunate. And I do like her so much. Mama was fortunate to have met Papa, was she not?"

Mary decided to end this particular conversation and go see how Lydia was doing.

Dr. Gresham arrived within quarter of an hour and assisted in the delivery of a baby boy that was swiftly named George after his father. Mrs. Bennet was most proud to hold yet another grandchild and intended to spoil this one for as long as possible. So when Mr. Wickham received a message from his superiors requesting his presence, he left his family in the charge of Mrs. Bennet and left Longbourn forthwith.

With Mr. Bennet's health steadily on the rise, and the joy of a newborn son in Longbourn, things were seemingly returning to a state of normalcy. Mary now felt willing and able to return to the way things were: visiting friends, attending socials and frolicking at dances.

And now she was completely free to meet the Misters Bonham.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

With Mr. Bennet now able to entertain outside of his rooms, Mrs. Bennet wasted no time in encouraging Mr. Henry Bonham to invite his brothers to Longbourn for dinner, especially now that most of the family could entertain, save Mrs. Wickham, who she adored, but who would not have been the best face to parade in front of the eligible sons of a baronet. Mrs. Wickham was still indisposed and resting in her rooms.

When Mr. Bennet descended from his rooms on the night of the fabled dinner, Mrs. Bennet was almost overcome with emotion at the sight of her tall, once-handsome husband now reduced to walking with a cane. He could no longer ride on horseback—Mrs. Bennet's orders; not Dr. Gresham's—and was to always have a footman at hand to assist him in any endeavors. Mary found it quite amusing how horribly her independent father was at being an invalid. But, in the days since the improvement of his health, he had been more bookish than ever.

Mary took it upon herself to invite Harriet Lucas to dinner that night and had even loaned her one of her discarded dresses for the event. The dress truly offset some of Harriet's more delicate features and she was almost handsome, which was an adjective that was not often attributed to the Lucas girls in general. But Mary had gone to great pains in doing Harriet's hair herself and ensuring that she looked the part of a beautiful young woman in her early twenties.

Mrs. Bennet had also invited the Collinses to Longbourn for dinner that night so the dinner table was unusually full but was undoubtedly destined to be an entertaining diversion.

A few minutes before the butler announced that dinner was served, Mr. Bonham was received into the drawing room along with his two brothers.

Mary was immediately silenced.

The two unknown gentlemen were, of course, Mr. William Bonham and Captain Bonham, though she could not tell which was which. They were both remarkably handsome—more so than their youngest brother—and were strikingly tall and emanated a presence that had not been seen in Hertfordshire since the days of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Both gentlemen were well-mannered and polite and bowed to everyone they were introduced to. Mary noted that they both seemed to be dandies, for they were so immaculately dressed and coiffed. She could not help from comparing them to beautiful peacocks. But dandyism was all the rage in town, according to Kitty, so Mary found it wonderful that they were keeping up with the latest fashions. In fact, they made her consider whether she was underdressed for the event.

"…and this is the elder Miss Bennet," introduced Mr. Henry. "Miss Mary Bennet."

"I am William. But a friend of my little brother's must call me Liam," said the one with the fairer hair. "I am pleased to meet you."

The other one—who had to be Captain Bonham—was gaping at Mary, which caused her to flush.

"Charles!" prodded Mr. Henry Bonham.

"I am sorry," said Captain Bonham. He kissed Mary's hand. "I am Captain Bonham. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet."

"The pleasure is mine," said Mary, curtsying slightly. "I am sure you have served our country well in the war. And I am certainly grateful for it."

"Served the country well?" interjected Mr. William Bonham. "He earned forty-thousand pounds as a naval officer."

"Forty thousand pounds?" asked Mrs. Bennet, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

Dinner was served and they were all ushered into the dining room. Surprisingly enough, Captain Bonham offered his elbow to Mary and she felt obliged to take it, though she would have much preferred to have been escorted by Mr. Henry Bonham instead. Kitty was given that privilege, though she did not seem to care all that much for it, while Harriet was escorted by Liam, whose acquaintance she had made earlier in their arrival to Hertfordshire.

"I see things have greatly improved at Longbourn," commented Mr. Collins, taking a seat on Mr. Bennet's right. Clearly he thought it a position most deserved by the heir apparent to Longbourn. "The house seems bigger. And there are more servants than I remember."

"Yes," was all Mr. Bennet managed to respond with.

"Things at Hunsford have also been well," continued Mr. Collins. "Much of it is due to the patronage of Mr. Darcy's most noble aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She advises me and Charlotte so wholeheartedly on what we should do to improve on it."

"And I have been practicing my playing of the piano forte," said Charlotte. "I go every other day, when I can spare the time away from little Charles."

"And we do have dinner at the Park so often," said Mr. Collins. "Miss Bennet, have you ever been to Hunsford? I daresay, you have not. Harriet, are you not dear friends with Miss Bennet? You simply must bring her with you the next time you are to visit. We have enough room."

"Mr. Darcy, we have not seen you at Rosings in quite some time," said Charlotte. "Lady Catherine often speaks of you."

"Yes," said Mr. Darcy. "I have not been to Kent in some time. Busy, I suppose."

"One must never be too busy for one's relations, Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Collins. "Or so Lady Catherine says."

"I'm sure she does," added Elizabeth, with a curt smile on her handsome face. "And how does Miss de Bourgh fair?"

"She is fine," said Charlotte. "Especially now that Colonel Fitzwilliam has been so often to Rosings in the past few years."

"Perhaps he and Miss de Bourgh are to be engaged," commented Mrs. Bennet.

"I highly doubt," said Mr. Collins. "No disrespect to your family, Mr. Darcy, but I think it highly unlikely that such a match should take place. Miss de Bourgh's match would have to be someone of similar positioning in society."

"And what is wrong with Colonel Fitzwilliam's standing?" asked Elizabeth.

"He is a very gentlemanly man," said Mr. Collins, "but he lacks property. Perhaps Miss de Bourgh would have been well suited with Lord Bratford, had he not married Miss Darcy." With that, he nodded solemnly at Mr. Darcy.

"I personally think Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam a splendid match," said Elizabeth. "He is the second son of an earl—Anne could scarcely do better—and at this point he is willing to settle down. They could both live at Rosings quite comfortably. And Colonel Fitzwilliam's brother, Viscount Bratford, is ill-suited to Anne. Georgiana's disposition is a better fit."

The conversation cooled down with Mr. Bingley's insertion of the fact that Little E had started talking and everyone was overjoyed to hear it.

"So tell me about life in the marines," said Mary to Captain Bonham. "It must have been exciting. Or so I have read in all the novels."

"It is very exciting, Miss Bennet," said Captain Bonham, "but also very scary at times. But I was well-rewarded for my services so there are absolutely no complaints from my side. We second sons have to make our own way. Or I could have joined the church like Henry has but it would not suit me, I believe."

"Too boring for you?" she asked.

"I could not stand to be the pillar of moral and spiritual strength to an entire parish. So it is more a matter of self-preservation than anything else."

"I like your honesty."

"I consider myself more of a simple country gentleman. I have always wanted to be so, Miss Bennet; running an estate. Dealing with tenants. It is my gift. But I am, unfortunately, not in line to inherit Hammershead."

"You seem very sad."

"I am sad. Do not say that I said it, but I do not think Liam the best fit for Hammershead, which is often the case for the firstborn son, who is often indulged by the father. He is a bit of a spendthrift, if you ask me. And he prefers to stay in town than to live in the country. He thinks country pursuits boring when compared to the gambling he can do in town."

"And your father's feelings?"

"Fortunately, he is in good health. So he has not insisted on Liam's presence at his side just yet."

"Liam must have a sizeable allowance."

"As firstborn, he must. My allowance encouraged me to join the regiment."

Mary chuckled.

"The firstborn son is to serve the family," continued Captain Bonham, "and the second is to serve the country. The third…well, Henry was always the sort to do whatever he wanted. He was Mama's favorite. Yet again, you did not hear it from me, but she had always wanted a daughter but had been burdened with three burly sons. But she kept Henry all to herself and I half expected him to stay at her side for the rest of her life. Even when Papa was gone and Mama was in the Dower House, Henry was to be at her side. I am quite sure her heart was broken when he decided to join the clergy."

Mary laughed much louder now. "You are very open about your family, Captain Bonham."

"I only speak the truth," he said.

"So if Liam is your father's favorite and Henry your mother's, whose favorite are you?"

"The servants. The tenants. I have always been helpful to them all. And I am a favorite of my friends in the neighborhood."

Mary liked that he was in high esteem with people outside of his family circle. It meant that he had to be a good person.

"So how are you liking Netherfield?" asked Mary.

"Actually, I adore it," said Captain Bonham. "I am glad Liam suggested it."

"Liam? He knew of its vacancy?"

"Someone or the other told him," said Captain Bonham. "I was actually surprised that he wanted to accompany me. As I said before, he is not exactly fond of the country. But he has been busying himself with the hunt and befriending some of the other gentlemen and bewitching some of the young ladies."

"Bewitching is certainly a strong word."

"But it is the best way to describe my elder brother. He has a way with the young ladies, I suppose. They simply adore him."

"I find all three Bonham gentlemen handsome."

"But he is the most, is he not?"

"I will never say, Captain Bonham."

"You do not have to. Everyone else agrees." Captain Bonham chuckled. "I hear you are a great reader and that you have raided Netherfield's library. Would you do me the great honor of visiting some time and suggesting some books for me? You can bring Miss Harriet."

"I would be honored," she said. "We shall come on the morrow."

Dinner was finished and all the ladies retreated to the drawing room while all the gentlemen remained in the dining room.

"I saw you in earnest conversation with Captain Bonham," said Harriet, as soon as Mary settled next to her. "Do you like him?"

"I do," admitted Mary. "He can carry on a most amusing conversation."

"Can he?" asked Harriet. "He never spoke with me. At every table we have ever sat at, he is always very polite but very reserved. I assume he does not want to share any of his war stories so he would rather remain quiet."

"He was quite the chatterbox with me," said Mary. "Maybe he was not well before."

"Perhaps you are right," said Harriet.

Within a few minutes, the gentlemen joined the ladies and Mr. Collins immediately decided that he wanted to read from one of the many religious texts that he had brought along with him from Kent. But he was almost immediately vetoed by Mr. Henry Bonham, who had brought along with him the novel _Camilla_, which happened to have been a favorite of Mary's.

Mary could not think of a better diversion. And she also could not help from admiring Mr. Henry Bonham's good taste. _Camilla_ was a very entertaining and romantic novel and she had read and reread it a number of times since she had gotten a copy of it. She listened most wholeheartedly and could not help from admiring how fluently he read and with how much feeling. He seemed just as enveloped in the story as all of the ladies of the party.

After he was finished, Jane decided that a little bit of dancing would have been a marvelous way to end the night. So Mary was commissioned to play them some music on the piano forte. But she was most surprised by Captain Bonham's decision not to dance for the entire set and, to instead, indulge in polite conversation with her. Everyone had grown to love her playing—which was a far cry from the way things had been but two years earlier—but no one ever attempted to keep her company or even join in.

"Charles, you simply must join in the festivities," said Mr. Henry Bonham, after relinquishing Kitty to his eldest brother.

"I have never been too fond of dancing," said Captain Bonham, with a slight bow. "But I would like to relieve Miss Bennet of her task. I am fairly accomplished at the playing of the piano forte."

Mr. Henry Bonham extended a hand to Mary and she wasted no time in joining him in a simple country dance. He was a marvelous dancer—of that she knew—but it was Captain Bonham's playing that had captivated her the most. He was probably the most talented pianist she had encountered in a long time outside of herself.

A few minutes later, the music ended and everyone decided that it was time to leave. Mr. Liam Bonham and Captain Bonham left in their own carriage while the Collinses and Harriet left in a carriage that they had rented from Meryton. Mr. Henry Bonham left in his phaeton.

Mary had to admit that she had an all-together wonderful evening. And she could not wait to return to Netherfield and relish in it once more.

But she also had the nagging feeling that there was something more she wanted to see at Netherfield: she wanted to spend more time with Captain Bonham.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

The following morning, Mary took the chaise and drove it over to Lucas Lodge. She had to wait in the sitting room of the house for some time—for Harriet had chores to finish—and then Harriet was ready to join her. Mary felt so sorry for the Lucases. While the Bennets had been rising, the Lucases had been declining. They had to let go of more than one servant in the past few years and the children were required to pick up where they had left off. That was why Mary had made sure to bring the youngest Lucas children little things that she had sewn for them over the past couple of weeks while tending to Mr. Bennet. She had done quite a bit of sewing for her own nieces and nephews and she could not help from extending this pleasure to the children in her own neighborhood who were less fortunate than she ever was.

Mary and Harriet used the ride to Netherfield to discuss all that had happened during the dinner the night before. Mary praised the newest additions to Hertfordshire society but made sure not to mention the growing feelings she had developed for Captain Bonham and the lingering feelings for the youngest Mr. Bonham. She had not gotten any rest the night before because they were both so fresh in her mind.

Mr. Henry Bonham and his marvelous reading. She simply adored his voice. His pitch was perfect. His tone sublime. He was a true gentleman. She was perplexed as to why she had not acknowledged all of this in the nine months that he had been in her acquaintance. She always knew that he was handsome and agreeable but now she felt like she was seeing him with new eyes.

And Captain Bonham with his polite conversation and talent at the piano forte. She was very impressed by that. There were gentlemen who were very good at playing but they rarely ever demonstrated that particular skill. But he had done it without any hesitation. He was certainly agreeable.

Once they entered Netherfield Hall, they were ushered to the back of the house where all three brothers were seated on the lawn having an afternoon picnic. Mary thought it very unfortunate that they were interrupting this brotherly bonding. But she had made a promise to come visit Netherfield.

"You simply must join us," said the eldest Mr. Bonham.

"We shall call on the morrow, Mr. Bonham," said Mary.

"It is Liam. We are already so intimately acquainted."

"Excuse me?" gasped Mary.

"I mean, that I have heard so much about you that I feel like I know you already."

"From whom?"

The eldest Mr. Bonham cleared his throat before saying, "From Henry, of course."

Captain Bonham rose and bowed to the ladies before escorting them back into the house and into the library. Harriet wasted no time in vanishing from their side, leaving Mary and Captain Bonham to peruse the shelves all by themselves. And the library of Netherfield was very large so it would take them quite a while to find the books that Mary wanted to. She had written a number of the names down on a small sheet of paper and she was now recalling their locations on the shelves.

"I thank you very much for coming," said Captain Bonham. "I feel so overwhelmed in this place."

Mary stretched and pulled out one of the books but, when he reached out to take it from her, she pulled it away.

"I saw this one and thought of Mr. Henry Bonham," she said. "He also asked me for assistance in choosing some books to read." She pulled out another book and handed it to Captain Bonham. "I think you will love this one. Does the eldest Mr. Bonham read?"

"I'm afraid not," said Captain Bonham. "Even while we were up at Oxford. He was never much of a reader."

"Well we must encourage him while he stays here in Netherfield," said Mary.

"Speaking of Liam, I hope he does not discomfort you with such a personal name."

"To be honest, he does. I find that much too personal."

"I apologize on his behalf, then. Liam is extremely friendly. Especially when he has taken a liking to someone. And he and Henry have always been so very close so I assume that he has just latched on to you because of Henry's praises of you."

"Praises of me?"

"Why yes, Miss Bennet. He says that you are one of the most accomplished young ladies in the neighborhood. You are all he speaks of in his letters to either of us."

Mary blushed.

"You are a dear friend to him. And he says that you have made him feel most comfortable in Hertfordshire. He even wrote to Mama about it and she is most pleased to hear that he has taken up with such an accomplished young woman and her family."

"Lady Bonham said that?"

"Of course she did. And we expect to have her here in Hertfordshire soon. She spent the Season in town but, if it were all up to her, she would live at Bonham House in town. She hates the country so. But, if she must stay in the country, she would rather be with her boys."

"She must be a very proud mother. To have three wonderful boys."

"And your parents must be happy to have five handsome girls, must they not?"

Mary blushed and looked away, embarrassed to be referred to as handsome. Being referred to as such always made her very skittish. She loved to hear it but she felt vain whenever she accepted such praise, especially since she had such an array of other accomplishments. But she had to admit that coming into her bloom at this stage had done wonders for her vanity.

She selected a few more books before she decided that it was time she and Harriet returned home. They found Harriet busy looking at a world map and they ushered her out of the library and back to where the other Bonham gentlemen were busy chattering.

"Miss Bennet," said Henry Bonham, "I was just about to come seek you out. I have some most disheartening news."

"Whatever is the matter, Mr. Bonham?"

"I have just received a quick note from Mrs. Wingfield," he said. "Good old Mr. Wingfield is…dying, I daresay. The doctor has given up on him. He only has a few hours to spare. She asked me to come fetch you to the Rectory to play a few songs while he passes."

"Of course," said Mary, surprised by the news. "I shall come immediately. But Harriet…"

"Do not worry for me," said Miss Harriet. "I shall be fine."

"If anything, I shall escort Miss Harriet to Lucas Lodge," offered Captain Bonham. "Henry, take Miss Bennet to the Rectory with haste."

Mary and Mr. Henry Bonham found themselves shuffling into a coach that was to take them to the Rectory in haste. She observed him and she gathered that he was obviously nervous about the entire situation: he was shaking uncontrollably and whispering to himself and staring out the window. He was agitated and excited.

"Mr. Bonham, everything shall be fine," said Mary, smiling warmly at him.

"Everything shall not, Miss Bennet," he practically shouted. He pulled out his handkerchief and covered his mouth. "It shall not. Now I am to assume responsibility of Meryton Rectory."

"Mr. Bonham, do calm down," she said. "You are quite qualified for the position. I have complete faith in you."

"How very misguided," said Mr. Bonham. "I am…ill-equipped, Miss Bennet! Entirely! I am too young! Too inexperienced!"

"The neighborhood clings to your every word, Mr. Bonham. You are an honored guest at any dinner table. You have everything one requires to be a wonderful rector."

Mr. Bonham was near tears but he held himself when they arrived at Meryton Rectory and were ushered into the house and up to the bedroom. It was a sad scene: Mrs. Wingfield was huddled in a corner of the room, crying to herself; Mr. Wingfield was clinging to life by silken, slippery tendrils.

Mary wasted no time in running over to the piano forte that had already been brought up and playing some songs while singing. Mr. Bonham stood next to Mrs. Wingfield, all composure and decorum and Mary respected him immensely right then for being strong in the presence of the elderly woman in her time of great unease.

Within a few moments, Mr. Wingfield died.

Mrs. Wingfield left the room to go write to her daughter while Mr. Bonham escorted Mary out of the house.

"I shall go to town for some time," he announced, as he helped her into the coach. "To give Mrs. Wingfield some time. And to give her daughter time to come and comfort her mother and pack up and what not."

"How long shall you be away, Mr. Bonham?"

"I cannot say," said Mr. Bonham. "For as long as Mrs. Wingfield requires. I shall not rush her out of Meryton Rectory. I am sure I can have Mama and Papa send a few servants to Bonham House."

Mary was conflicted about Mr. Bonham's departure and she pondered on it for the entire ride back to Longbourn. She understood that he wanted to give the family some privacy and that the Rectory would now be overcome with visits by neighbors and extended family of the Wingfields. But she thought that he should remain there as a support system as well. As far as she knew, Mr. Bonham was considered to be practically a son to Mrs. Wingfield. But Mary did not try to understand the workings in the mind of gentlemen.

As she was approaching Longbourn House, she was most surprised to see her youngest sister, Mrs. Wickham, in earnest conversation with the new steward Mr. Harper. They seemed rather familiar as far as she was concerned. Mary immediately grew protective of her family and its name. Lydia had already gone and sullied it some years earlier. She lacked maturity and discretion in all of her actions. Mary grew concerned and asked the driver to pull aside.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Harper," she said. "Lydia, should you not be inside resting?"

"Oh, I am absolutely fine, Mary," said Lydia. "I am still quite young. I recover quickly."

"Well I am sure Brother Wickham would want you to rest easy still," said Mary. "And it is rather chilly outside."

"And it is rather chilly inside too," commented Lydia. "I do hate a country house. Especially this one. So drafty. I prefer our house in Brighton. It is much smaller but it is very warm and cozy."

"Come along, Lydia," instructed Mary, opening the door.

"Benjamin, I will speak with Mama as soon as I get into the house," said Lydia, getting into the coach. "You must come up for dinner tonight."

"Lydia!" scolded Mary, closing the door behind her sister. The coach moved and they were on their way to the house. "Lydia, this is not your house in Brighton! This is Mama and Papa's house! And here, Mama chooses who comes up for dinner."

"Mary, we have gotten quite full of ourselves have we?" asked Lydia. "He is the steward; not any old servant. He is practically a gentleman."

Mary could feel her head aching so she decided not to persist in this direction. Lydia had not changed one bit since her marriage. In fact, more and more Mary saw her mother in Lydia and her father in Mr. Wickham: they had started ignoring each other. She had seen it completely when the Wickhams had come to Longbourn for Michaelmas last year. And it had only gotten worse.


End file.
